


enough

by katierosefun



Series: Whumptober [Clone Wars] [4]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt Anakin Skywalker, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Protective Ahsoka Tano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 12:02:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20966243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katierosefun/pseuds/katierosefun
Summary: When Anakin gets stabbed, Ahsoka realizes she's afraid.





	enough

Looking back, Ahsoka realized she should have seen the knife coming. But the night club was dark, and she was on the other side of the room when Anakin went down.

She had been talking to someone—some half-drunk Rodian who was trying to persuade her into buying some black market weapons when she felt her master’s pain ripple through the Force. And then she had heard (or felt? Both?) her master’s body hit the ground.

That was when the cries of surprise went up, and then the bartender was shouting about calling the police, and then Ahsoka was pushing her way past the crowd, her heart thudding in her chest as she stumbled into the clearing in the middle of the club. Under the steady flash and glow of the lights, Ahsoka had only barely made out Anakin on the ground, his chest rising and falling too fast. There had been something dark seeping through Anakin’s front and down to the floor, and Ahsoka’s knees had hit the ground.

“Master,” she breathed, and blood had roared up to her head as Anakin’s eyes just barely opened for her. “Hold on,” she said now, trying to keep her voice steady, but it was difficult as she pressed her shaky hands against the wound. Warm blood wept over her fingers, stained her hands, stained her skin as her mind raced for a quick exit.

“Ahsoka,” Anakin whispered. His eyes kept opening and closing, focusing on Ahsoka’s face and then roving across the ceiling the next. “’s not good.”

“No, you’re going to be fine,” Ahsoka replied, her breath hitching in her throat. “Master? Look at me—keep your eyes open. _Anakin_.”

Anakin’s eyes made their way back to Ahsoka’s face. His lips parted, but no words came out. Ahsoka’s pulse stuttered. “Stay with me,” Ahsoka whispered. “Please.” She reached one hand blindly over to Anakin’s, and she squeezed it as hard as she could, as though touch alone could transfer her energy into him. “Please.”

Anakin blinked slowly. A response. Ahsoka could work with a response.

“Someone call for help!” Ahsoka shouted, looking over her shoulder. People backed away, and Ahsoka felt something dangerously close to rage boil up inside of her. “A man is _dying,_” she snarled. “Someone call for help _now!_”

“Kid?”

Ahsoka almost sobbed in relief as a familiar figure made his way through the crowd. Rex dropped down next to Ahsoka, his eyes wide. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “What—” He looked down at Anakin, and even though it was still dark, Ahsoka could make out Rex’s eyes widening in shock. “Oh, that’s not good.”

“Help,” Ahsoka said. “He—I don’t know if—”

“There’s a speeder in the back,” Rex said. “We’ll have to be careful moving him. Take his legs.” He nodded at Ahsoka’s blood-stained hand, still pressed against Anakin’s side. “Do you have something that might actually keep the blood from flowing?”

“I—yeah, just take over,” Ahsoka said, and she shifted just in time for Rex to set his hands over the wound. Ahsoka tore a part of her skirt, and ignoring the leers of some of the clubbers around her, she wrapped it tightly around Anakin’s side. “Okay,” she said, her stomach lurching at Anakin’s small groan. “That’ll have to do for now.”

“Alright,” Rex replied. He shifted over to Anakin’s arms. “Are you ready?”

“Ready,” Ahsoka responded, taking Anakin’s legs. “One, two—”

And together, they lifted Anakin. Another low moan slipped from Anakin’s lips, and Ahsoka’s heart tightened. Still, she forced her eyes ahead, watching Rex as he led them out of the club. “Speeder,” he nodded, and sure enough, there was a speeder just barely big enough for three people parked in the dark. “I can drive.”

As Ahsoka and Rex gently lowered Anakin into the speeder, Rex added, “He’ll be alright, kid. General’s made out of tough stuff.”

Ahsoka’s throat tightened. “I know,” she replied. She lifted her head up at Rex. “But could you hurry?”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Rex replied, and he started up the speeder.

As the speeder rumbled to life, Ahsoka rested her hands over Anakin’s shoulders to keep him steady. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes cracking open at Ahsoka. “’s okay,” he murmured.

“You’re right,” Ahsoka said. She tried not to look down at the blood that was slowly seeping through the makeshift bandage she had made for Anakin. “You’re going to be okay.”

Anakin nodded—or he just shifted his head up and down against Ahsoka’s lap, and he closed his eyes.

“Rex?” Ahsoka asked, hating how her voice pitched an octave. “Are we any closer?”

“Almost there, Commander,” Rex replied over his shoulder.

Ahsoka looked back down at Anakin, but his eyes had closed. She swallowed. Plan. She needed a plan. She could get Anakin inside, and then things could work out from there. There was always at least someone wandering the healing halls. Ahsoka swallowed again. “Hold on,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if she was saying those words more to herself or to Anakin. Maybe both.

When the speeder finally came to a stop, Ahsoka felt like she could breathe just a little.

“Here,” Rex said, and this time, he took Anakin’s legs. “Arms.”

Ahsoka nodded and took Anakin’s wrists. “Sorry, Master,” she whispered, and they hoisted Anakin out of the speeder. Anakin’s head lolled backwards, but besides that, there wasn’t much more of a reaction. With that, Rex and Ahsoka hurried into the Temple, Rex looking backwards to make sure they were walking straight, Ahsoka giving directions. Now that they were actually inside, Ahsoka couldn’t recall if Rex had ever actually been in the Temple before, but she pushed the thought away from her mind. She didn’t care.

“Thank you,” Ahsoka said quietly, looking up at Rex. “If you weren’t there…”

“It’s no problem, Commander,” Rex replied steadily. He paused, looking backwards again. “But if you don’t mind me asking, what were you two doing?”

“Just some business scoping out the black market sellers,” Ahsoka replied. She looked up at Rex. “What were _you _doing there?”

Rex cast Ahsoka a sidelong look, and she didn’t know whether to look away or keep staring. She kept staring.

“There’s a club nearby,” Rex replied. “The boys like going there sometimes. I was just checking in on them when I heard the commotion.”

“I’m glad.” Ahsoka said. “That you were there.”

Rex pressed his lips together in what might have been a smile. “Anytime, Commander. Now, tell me which way we need to go.”

\--

Rex eventually left, leaving Ahsoka alone at Anakin’s bedside. “It’ll be okay, kid,” he said, and Ahsoka had tried to smile, but she couldn’t, not after she had seen the amount of blood stained on the bandages. The healers had changed Anakin into the white patient robes, and against the white, Anakin’s skin looked paler than ever.

Ahsoka rested her elbows against the cot. She propped her chin up on her hands and looked down at Anakin, observing the small wrinkle in between his eyebrows and the hard, set line his lips shaped. She wasn’t used to seeing him like this. There had been times when Anakin had been injured, of course, but not on Coruscant. Not right in the same room, where Ahsoka could have been there.

They knew there were dangerous people on Coruscant. Ironically, that had been one of the first things Anakin had told Ahsoka before they went on their first ventures into Coruscant as a mission. “There’s all kinds of thugs here,” Anakin had told Ahsoka. “Just because you’ve lived here your whole life doesn’t mean it’s any safer.”

And for the most part, Ahsoka had listened, but there had always been something a little less serious about Coruscant. For her, she had always just figured that because there were no droids or Sith, then there was no real danger.

But as the war went on, there seemed to be more instances right within Coruscant that told Ahsoka the planet was not quite as safe as she once thought. Senators got assassinated right in their own offices. Troopers were found mangled after a fight gone bad. Even Master Kenobi had gotten into an accident a few months ago.

Anakin’s chest shuddered, and Ahsoka quickly leaned forward. “Master?” she whispered. She looked up, her eyes scanning for a healer—but before she could call out for any help, she felt a warm hand brush up against her arm.

“No,” Anakin mumbled, opening his eyes. “Don’t—I’m fine.”

“Master?” Ahsoka repeated, and she fell back into the seat. “How—are you alright? How are you feeling?”

Anakin breathed out a huff that might been a laugh. “Doing just fine. Sore.” He turned to Ahsoka. “How about you?” And his voice was uncharacteristically quiet. Soft, if Ahsoka was about to go that far.

“Me?” Ahsoka shook her head. “Don’t worry about me.”

Anakin furrowed his brow. “Thought I heard you,” he said. “Back there.”

Ahsoka’s throat tightened. “You remember that?” she asked in a small voice.

“Some parts,” Anakin replied. “Bits and pieces. Mostly not.” He let out another huff, but his smile faded when he looked back up at Ahsoka. “Hey,” he said. “_Hey_, Snips—what’s wrong?”

“You could have been really hurt,” Ahsoka whispered. “You _are _really hurt. And I don’t know if…” Her voice drifted as Anakin’s eyes focused on her. She bowed her head. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m getting ahead of myself.” And she knew she was—Jedi weren’t supposed to make attachments, and yet, she couldn’t ignore the way her heart plunged when she had found her master on the ground, herself helpless to do anything except hope that he would stay awake long enough to get aid.

“I was scared,” Ahsoka admitted. She lifted her head. “I didn’t mean to be, and I didn’t want to be, but I was.” She bit down on her lip. “I know I shouldn’t have, but—” Her voice broke. “I thought you might not…”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin said, and with a sigh, he started to sit up. Ahsoka lifted her hands, but Anakin waved her away. “It’ll be fine,” he said, and he adjusted himself on the cot so that he was looking at Ahsoka eye-to-eye. “I don’t expect you to not be afraid all the time.”

“But the Jedi way—”

“I know,” Anakin said, shaking his head. “I’m not saying to be scared _all the time_, but there’s just some things…” He shook his head again. “There’s some things that you’re always going to be afraid of, Jedi or not.” He smiled at Ahsoka, a sad, weary one. “Just don’t let it control you.” He reached over and lifted Ahsoka’s chin with the tip of his finger. “Come on,” he said, giving her a small nod. “You’re strong enough.”

Ahsoka felt both a small prickle of pride and dread in her chest. Pride because her master clearly thought she was strong enough, but dread at the possibility that she wasn’t.

Still, Ahsoka found herself nodding. “I will be,” she replied.

And she decided that answer would settle for now.

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, this probably took place around season two. I also made a reference to Obi-Wan being hurt in this story which is linked to another story that I wrote for whumptober called Shield. This story is a fulfillment of whumptober prompt #8, 'stab wound'.
> 
> As always, reviews/constructive criticism are always appreciated!


End file.
